


The Graveyard Shift

by imjusttheoutgoingsidekick



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Fluff, Idiots in Love, M/M, Spooktober, Supernatural Elements, graveyards, its really cute you guys, rates teen for swearing and making out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 23:55:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16418483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imjusttheoutgoingsidekick/pseuds/imjusttheoutgoingsidekick
Summary: Race and Al visit the cemetery(Alternately titled; What’s Better Than This,,, Guys Bein Dudes)





	The Graveyard Shift

**Author's Note:**

> Woof guess who wrote this at school yeet

Race was happy to sit in Albert’s lap in the back of his beat up pick up truck and make out all night long. He loved the feeling of Albert’s hands on his hips holding him close, and the way he would whisper small praises against his lips. “You’re perfect,” and “I love you so much,” were often heard, as well as gasps and soft whines. This wasn’t going anywhere and they both knew that, neither were ready for that big step in their relationship. They were content to explore each other’s mouths, memorizing the feelings.

They kissed for a long time, tongues battling and hands brushing everywhere. Eventually Albert pulled away for air, not having the Musician’s Lungs Race had acquired from years of playing multiple brass instruments. He smiled and rested their foreheads together, brushing his thumbs over the skin hidden just under Race’s shirt.

“Mmm,” Race let out a quiet, happy hum. He buried his face in Albert’s neck and left little kisses there.

“You’re cute,” Albert murmured. He pet through Race’s curls. “Hey,” he tugged gently on the hair on the back of Race’s head, raising his face so they were eye to eye. “I wanna do something,” he whispered, brushing their noses together.

“Al we’ve been over this, we’re just in high school and-“

“Get your mind out of the gutter Anthony,” Albert laughed and rolled his eyes. “I mean I want to go do something, not just sit in my truck and make out. We do that every Friday,” he whined, “I wanna go out.”

Race gave him a quizzical look, “go out... where?”

A devilish grin spread across Albert’s face. “The old municipal graveyard.”

Race shook his head, “no, no way Albert.”

“Why nooooottt,” Albert complained.

“It’s Friday the thirteenth. Of October. There’s no way in hell I’m going to a graveyard.” Race crossed his arms and gave Albert a stern look, “I do not want to die.”

Albert whined, “c’mon Racer, it’ll be fun I promise!” He gently pried Race’s arms away from his body, kissing the knuckles of each his hands before joining their fingers together. “Pleeeaaaasssseeeeeeee,” he begged, “I’ll hold your hand the whole time.”

Race sighed, knowing he wouldn’t get anywhere with his protesting. “Fine.”

The ride to the graveyard was short, and Albert flipped his headlights off as they pulled in.

Albert got out first, walking around to open the door for his boyfriend.

“Such a gentleman,” Race commented, thankful for the darkness to hide his blush. Albert pulled him in for a soft kiss, settling his hands on Race’s waist.

He pulled back and admired his boyfriend for a minute. The moonlight framed his face quite nicely, and made his blonde curls look as if they were glowing. “C’mon,” Albert said, “let’s take a walk.”

He took Race’s hand and they walked off together. There were quite a few trees in the cemetery, so at times it was difficult to see. Thankfully, Albert had a little hand held lamp in the back of his truck.

Albert was leading Race around, and it seemed like he was looking for something. He stopped at a grave with a broken gravestone. It had been cracked in half horizontally, and the top half now sat propped against the half still rooted in the ground.

“Racer, look at this,” he kneeled down and held the lantern up to the stone. “Mary Harmon, you know who she is?”

Race shook his head and crouched down beside Albert, squinting at the inscription.

Mary Harmon/Born 1821/Died 1927/This isn’t the end of me

“She lived a hundred years?”

Albert nodded, “it’s been speculated that she was a witch. She lived out in the woods, like a batty old recluse. Every time she made a trip to town, someone died.” He grinned widely, “two days after she was buried her gravestone cracked, and the grass has never grown back over her coffin.”

Race looked down and sure enough they were crouched over a dusty rectangle. He let out a quiet “woah,” and looked back at Albert.

He stood and pulled Race up with him, hooking an arm around his waist and kissing his head absentmindedly. “I really like coming here, the local history and all that.”

Race smiled and leaned on Albert. “Nerd,” he whispered.

Their next stop was a worn down looking grave, and Albert bent to brush some dirt off of it. “Blanche Taylor Moore, know of her?”

Race squinted, trying to remember. “Wasn’t she... the arsenic poisoner?”

Albert nodded, “killed her first husband, her second husband, and her boyfriend. It’s suspected she killed her dad, but there’s no way to know for sure.”

Race shook his head, “promise you’ll never poison me?”

“Promise.” Albert smiled at him, then glanced around. “Hey, I gotta pee, wait here I’ll be right back.

Race nodded, letting go of Albert’s hand and putting it in his pocket to keep warm. He waited for a bit, then leaned against the half wall surrounding the perimeter of the graveyard. He whistled a quiet tune and tapped his foot to the beat.

Suddenly, he felt hands on his waist. Race jumped and screamed, turning to see what the hell had touched him. A dark figure stood there with a blank white mask, it’s head cocked to the side. Race felt any sound die in his throat as it reached out to him.

Then, in the blink of an eye, the figure removed the mask and hood, and Albert stood there. He laughed for a moment, but when he caught sight of the terror in his boyfriend’s eyes he quickly stopped and climbed over the little wall.

There were the beginnings of tears at the corner of Race’s eyes, and his chest was heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Hey, hey,” Albert stepped up to him at grabbed his hands, which were visibly shaking. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t mean to scare you that bad.” He pulled Race in and held him tight, petting through his hair. “You know I would never do anything to hurt you, right?”

Race nodded into his shoulder, gripping the back of Albert’s shirt tightly. He let himself cry a little as Albert pet through his hair and held him as tight as he could. Race pulled back eventually, and Albert wiped the tears off his cheeks. “I didn’t know you got scared so easily,” he murmured.

Race nodded sheepishly, “I’m sorry, I’m really jumpy. Scary stuff isn’t really my thing.”

“It’s okay, you have nothing to apologize for.” He looked Race in the eyes, “do you want to leave? It’s fine if you do,” he pressed a quick kiss to his cheek, “we can go get food or something.”

Race shook his head, “no it’s okay.” He looked down at his feet for a moment, “could you- could you hold my hand? The whole time?”

Albert nodded, taking Race’s hand as they moved on throughout the graveyard. They stopped at a few more places, the grave of a sheriff who was only sheriff for two days before he was shot and killed. The plot of an entire family who died of the Spanish Flu. A husband and wife Murder-Suicide. An old beloved blacksmith.

“Most the graves here are pretty old. I think the latest one is from, like, the nineties, but most of them were in the 1800’s.”

Race nodded, looking around. Albert pointed out a symbol another grave, “this one means he was a Free Mason.”

They wandered around a bit more. Race began to whistle a light tune, but Albert clamped a hand over his mouth. “Stop, Race, whistling in a graveyard is said to summon the devil.”

“Ha ha very funny,” Race said, muffled by Albert’s hand on his mouth. He looked at Albert, and was met with a stern and serious look.

“No, Race I’m not kidding.” He took his hand away and looked around.

“Okay, okay,” he kissed Albert’s cheek, “it’s okay there’s no one here but us.”

They stopped at a few more graves, like ones that people had obviously done rituals around, and a few from the Woodworkers of America, whose graves looked like logs.

As they wandered through the graves, they heard the snap of a twig underfoot. Only, they had been standing still. Race looked around, terror in his eyes. He felt Albert’s arm wrap around his waist, rubbing circles there.

“It’s okay, I’m sure it was nothing, I’ve got you baby.” He kissed Race’s head and kept walking. They came across the gazebo at the center, and Albert pulled them both in. He grinned, backing Race up against the railing and kissing him.

Race gasped as Albert lifted him up to sit on the railing, and he pushed his tongue into Race’s mouth. They whined, biting at each other’s lips. Albert pulled back and kissed down Race’s neck, sucking gently.

“Al,” Race breathed out, “A-Albert.” He tugged at his hair and Albert pulled back. “Did you hear that?”

Albert shook his head, but lifted Race back off the railing and sat him down in front of him. He kissed his cheek, “it’s getting late, let’s head back.”

Race couldn’t help but notice the slight increase in his boyfriend’s pulse. They were both equally terrified.

“There it was, I heard it that time.”

They went silent, as did the light sound if footsteps Albert thought he had heard. “Shit,” he murmured.

They kept walking, finding their way to the paved road that winded through the cemetery. “Albie,” Race whispered, tugging at the hem of Albert’s shirt. “Albie, do you see that?”

Albert looked up, and saw what looked like flickering lights inside the gravekeeper’s office.

“Shitshitshit,” Albert removed his arm from Race’s waist and laced their fingers together. “Okay, okay, just stay calm,” he said, more to himself than anything.

They kept walking, at a quicker pace now. As they passed the building, all the lights shut off, and clouds rolled in over the full moon.

Race and Albert turned to each other. “Run!”

Albert took off, pulling Race behind him. They ran as fast as they could, clambering into Albert’s truck. Albert turned the key in the ignition and took off, running three red lights and not slowing down until they were at least a mile away.

They pulled into Albert’s driveway, parking the truck and hopping out.

Once upstairs, they stripped down and put on pajamas, Race borrowing some of Albert’s and laying down.

Albert wrapped his arms around Race’s back, pulling him against his chest. He kissed the back of Race’s neck, “we are never doing that again, right?”

Race nodded, lacing his fingers together with Albert’s hand resting on his stomach.

“Never again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Blanche Taylor Moore is a real person, look her up. 
> 
> Comments would make my day!!


End file.
